


The Contest

by moon_opals



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Delpad Day, F/M, Family Fluff, Pre-Canon, Romance, blended families - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 18:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17730563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_opals/pseuds/moon_opals
Summary: An uninvited guest disrupts Della's and Launchpad's date, but they can't complain.





	The Contest

**Author's Note:**

> Delpad Day is finally here! Here's to all my fellow shippers!

The biplane landed as expected on the runway. A minor bump and soon she reached her expected stop. Turning off the engine, Della removed her goggles. With a smile she turned to face her passenger strapped in the back.

“Okay, sweet pea,” she said breathlessly. “Wasn’t that a great flight?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Ofelia grinned, patting her companion to the side. “Senor Oso thought it was great too.” Della spotted another set of canine teeth protruding out of her gums; her baby teeth were sharper than an average duck’s.

“Is the basket safe?”

She glanced under her feet and nodded. “Yes,” she answered, “I didn’t eat any pizza or candy apples.”

Della threw her head back, laughing. “Good work, my sweet egg,” she began to unstrap her buckle, “you and Senor Oso are going to have a lot of fun today, but remember what I said?”

“No marking my territory,” she answered proudly, wearing her most serious expression, “and no pushing.”

Della paused. “Good,” she unfastened the modified plane seat, “very, very good, Mommy is so proud you remember to not do that, but what is the other thing we discussed?”

Ofelia pouted, thinking very hard as Della hoisted her to solid ground. “Um...um…,” they walked hand in hand to the aquarium, “um…,” her pout festered into frustration. Della was patient. It was best for her to figure this out herself.

They were at the entrance when her eyes grew alight, and she stomped her feet excitedly. “I remember Mommy,” she hopped, “be nice to Mr. McQuack!”

“Good work, sweetie.”

“But only if he’s nice to you,” her tone lost is childish nature, swiftly turning grave and serious.

Della chuckled, gently threading her fingers through her bow decorated ponytail. Her orange hair bounced giddily, and she pointed ahead, “Is that him, Mommy?”

“Huh?” She followed the direction of her point. “Yeah, it is,” they picked up their pace, “lets go say hi.”

“Yeah!”

* * *

“Aw jeeze, Dells, you don’t have to apologize.”

“No, no, I do.” Della explained, “Donald had a thing with his band, and as much as I appreciate Uncle Scrooge I didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness.” Holding hands they watched Ofelia identify the fishes in the massive tanks. They walked leisurely, comfortable and quiet. Della loved a good adventure, but she didn’t mind this. “He loves taking her to board meetings,” she added.

“Board meetings?”

“Yep,” Della chuckled. “My cousins practically grew up in the Money Bin,” she gestured to Ofelia, “hey, my sweet egg, what’s the best thing about a loan?”

Riding on Ofelia’s shoulders, she answered immediately, “Accumulated interest!”

Launchpad whistled. “Whoa, you weren’t kidding,” he laughed, “well, do you know where you can get the best pizza?”

“No, where?”

“Papa Swan’s!” He tickled her feet, grinning at her excited squeals. “Good thing your Mom listened to me.” Della waved the picnic basket.

“Senor Oso is hungry,” Ofelia said. “Can we eat now?”

Della searched Launchpad’s face for any objection, and then, she heard an angry growl.

“Whoa,” he patted his stomach. “That’s what I get for skipping breakfast.”

“That’s not good, Mr. McQuack.”

“Aw kid, you can call me Launchpad.”

“‘Kay Mr. Launchpad.”

When he smiled, her stomach squealed, and she looked away, cheeks blushed. “There’s an eating hall not too far away from here,” she suggested. “It’s close to lunchtime anyways.”

“Hooray,” they cheered.

* * *

“Numbers don’t lie Launchpad,” Della grabbed fifty napkins out of the napkin dispenser. “Ofelia ate five over your three.”

Launchpad groaned, head on the table. “No fair,” he grumbled, snapping his attention onto mother and daughter, “she ate Senor Oso’s slices! That has to be a technical foul.”

“Senor Oso can’t have pizza, Mr. Launchpad,” Ofelia explained smoothly. “He’s lactose intolerant.”

“That makes complete sense,” he conceded.

“Toddlers, am I -,” her line was cut with a loud burp. Launchpad covered his mouth, cheeks flushed a bright pink, “Sorry! I mean...that was really loud, no! I mean, really, really gross.”

Della and Ofelia blinked.

And then, Della opened her mouth, belching three times louder than Launchpad. Ofelia jumped, staring at her mom with a disgusted scowl, and she turned to Launchpad, whose slackjaw response dropped his half eaten fourth pizza.

“That was beautiful,” he said.

Ofelia stared at his pizza, “You eat on the wrong side.” She looked back at Della, “And you’re not excused.” She crossed her arms.

Della stared at Launchpad. Launchpad stared at Della. They stared at Ofelia and her unusually disappointed expression.

“We’re sorry,” they chuckled.  
  
“Good,” she nodded. “ You’re forgiven.”

* * *

It was quiet outside, an early evening. Ofelia dozed off her in her arms, now fully asleep, trapped securely in her planeseat. Her yellow bow was twisted sideways off her ponytail. 

Della stood by the plane. He stood in front her. “I had a lot of fun today,” she beamed. “Eating contests and all.”

“She has an abnormally strong appetite.”

“Gets it from her dad.” As an aside, “Just don’t let him know it.”

“Cute,” he smiled.

An easy, comfortable silence developed, and she stepped forward, resting her hand on abdomen. “I mean it Launchpad, this was amazing,” she said. “I know it wasn’t the date you were expecting -,”

“Dells, it was wonderful,” he took her hand into his. “Having Ofelia here means a lot, means you trust me...and that’s the most amazing thing to me,” he lowered down, kissing her knuckles. “I feel like the luckiest guy in the world.”

Inches away, Della gripped his collar closing whatever distance remained. She smacked her beak onto his, humming happily into a kiss that lasted longer than any previous kiss they had previously shared. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her to him, and he picked up her, groaning as her fingers roam through his hair.

And then, they broke apart.

“Donald has a babysitting card to cash in next Friday,” she gasped, feathers a bright scarlet. “You and me, right?”

Dazed, confused, he swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he squeaked. “Can’t wait to see you Friday.”

She kissed his cheek. “You really are something special, Mr. McQuack,” she hopped off him, climbing back into her biplane.

He watched them take off. The little girl in the back seat, sleeping soundly with Senor Oso in the crook of her arm. Her mother piloted, goggles lowered and concentration set. Her red biplane was a dot in the horizon, burying itself in its colors.

Launchpad waved goodbye. His heart was light. A sweet tingle lingered on his beak.

“Next Friday night,” he whispered. He turned on his heel, “I wonder if Phooey has ever driven a power wheel jeep.” He snapped his fingers, “You’re never too young to learn your first crash!”

**Author's Note:**

> Phooey isn't quite a character, but they are a character. When a fourth nephew was mistakenly drawn, he was named Phooey. He's sometimes portrayed as the "yellow" nephew. For this story, Phooey is a girl and the boys' older sister. Guess who her dad is? Worked with DonaldtheDuckDad to establish this Phooey's character.
> 
> Also, I really wanted LP to interact with a toddler. He'd be great with them. He's a good guy. Thank you to everyone who read, and happy Delpad Day!


End file.
